


Independence Day

by eternalsojourn



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies), The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types
Genre: Feelings, First Time, M/M, blowjob
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-08-18
Updated: 2016-08-18
Packaged: 2018-08-09 14:42:05
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,238
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7805893
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/eternalsojourn/pseuds/eternalsojourn
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It's Independence Day, and Steve's birthday. Tony thinks that even if Steve isn't up for all the usual parties, Steve ought to celebrate somehow.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Independence Day

The kitchen is empty, making it seem bigger. Tony doesn’t really remember if he’s ever been in here alone. Between the Avengers, their various guests, and SHIELD agents dropping in for casual meetings, there’s usually someone helping themselves to Tony’s generosity. Well, Pepper’s generosity anyway.

But today is a national holiday and apparently everyone has taken the day to be out. Tony takes a long pull on his mineral water and sets it on the large island, glass clinking on the sparkling granite. Personally, he doesn’t see the point in having a day off, but it’s kind of nice working in the quiet, especially when he’s making some tweaks to a new arc reactor. He absentmindedly feels the edges of his current one through his worn Public Enemy t-shirt as he takes another sip of his water.

“Oh,” Steve stands in the doorway looking like he’s going to about-face and bolt. Which is weird because there’s no earthly reason they shouldn’t bump into each other in the kitchen and have that be awkward.

“Stick around, Howdy Doody,” Tony says. “No need to let social anxiety get the better of you just for little ol’ me.”

“I’m not…” Steve starts, then relaxes a smidge. “I just thought I was alone here, that’s all.”

“Yeah, speaking of. Shouldn’t you be out partying or something? I’d have thought this would be like your Christmas. Aside from, well, actual Christmas.”

Steve makes a face, the slightly exasperated one he always gets when he thinks Tony uses too many words to say too little, then says, “It’s, yeah. The celebrations and everything, they’re great. It’s just all a bit much, you know?”

“Seeing as how I’m not the idolized embodiment of the Land of the Free, no, I don’t. But I guess I can see your point. Theoretically. If I were opposed to being idolized. So, actually, no. Explain it to me.”

Steve looks like he’s about to try, but then he just sighs and moves past Tony to the fridge. Tony shifts to let him by but doesn’t really move out of the way, choosing instead to lean his back against one half of the fridge door while Steve stares into the other. This close, Tony can feel the heat off Steve’s skin, even with the door open.

“No, seriously, I’m curious now. It’s America’s birthday, not to mention your actual birthday. And I know you’ve been asleep a while, but here in the future, I think you should know it’s traditional to get a birthday blowjob. There’s got to be a ton of volunteers for that on any day because, let’s be real here, look at you, but especially today of all days. You should go. Times Square. Adoring fans. Take your pick.”

Steve ducks his head into the bicep holding the door open, exasperated or shy, Tony’s not sure, but it’s kind of endearing either way.  Then Steve peeks at Tony. “Are you ever going to get tired of messing with me?” He closes the door without having taken anything out. “Things may have changed a bit, but I’m not taking social advice from you of all people. I can’t even tell when you’re being serious or just seriously inappropriate.”

Tony affects a wounded look. “Just looking out for your best interests, old man. It has to have been awhile since anyone pledged allegiance to your flag, right? Or has it? Anyway, I’m just saying. You’re looking opportunity in the face, would be a shame to waste it.” He’s moved over to lean against the island, making Steve turn around to face him.

Steve has his arms crossed over his chest and a little wrinkle between his brows. It’s not his mad face, it’s his “I can’t believe we’re having this conversation” face, although he always sees it through to the end. Tony suddenly realizes he’s really familiar with Steve’s expressions in a way that’s weirdly comforting. And kind of longing. What’s up with that? In his distraction he has to rewind his brain to catch what Steve’s saying.

“You _are_ serious. I’m not going out and taking advantage of some stranger for… for… my own gratification. I’m not you.”

Tony ignores the half-hearted dig, mostly because he doesn’t consider it one. “That your hangup? I guarantee you could easily find a willing partner who wouldn’t feel the slightest bit taken advantage of. But if the issue is that it’s a stranger, well. I can’t help you.” He gestures with his water in defeat.

Steve nods as if to punctuate the end of the discussion and unfolds his arms.

Tony finishes his drink. “Unless I can,” he adds thoughtfully. 

“What?” Steve says, confused. He looks like he’s trying to figure out on his own what Tony’s saying, but shakes his head. “What?” he says again.

“I could help you,” Tony says simply.

“I don’t need help, Tony. That was you who said that.”

“Don’t you?” Tony tilts his head, assessing. Steve was avoiding the parties, and nearly bolted when he first walked in. But now keeping him here talking isn’t the slightest bit difficult. Tony has only conjecture about why Steve would want to avoid the national holiday and its celebrations, but evidence suggests he doesn’t want to be entirely alone.

He takes a deliberate step back and gestures to the door. “All right. You could go back to your room, or the gym, or wherever you intended to hide. Or. OR,” he widens his eyes and faux-flirts at Steve. “We could stay here and crack a beer in America’s honour.”

Steve considers for a moment, glancing at the door and then back at Tony. A possibly involuntary muscle twitches half a smile. “No parties.”

“No parties. Just us.”

Steve’s eyebrows go up and he shrugs. “Yeah, okay.”

***

There are cans scattered across the island, though between Tony’s stringent training for alcohol tolerance and Steve’s enhanced metabolism, Tony thinks they’re both barely at the loose-and-easy stage. He hopes for a liberal interpretation of both of those terms, but even if things don’t go that way, it’s kind of nice sharing stories and a laugh with Steve. He also feels a bit smug that he’s got Captain America all to himself on Independence Day. Suck it, rest of America.

Tony contemplates getting them another drink each and stretches up, scratching his belly with one hand. He catches Steve eyeing him sidelong and, perhaps coincidentally, idly tonguing the corner of his mouth. Interesting. With a final scratch and a little more stretch for good measure, Tony stands.

He moves behind Steve and lightly places his palms on his shoulders. “So, for real now. What are you doing here instead of out there whooping it up with everyone?” He tests out a little knead of muscle and Steve hums and tilts his head. Tony takes that as permission and puts a little more weight into the massage.

“Hm. It’s not that I don’t appreciate them. I do. And I get it, I’m a symbol.”

“ _Yeah_ y’are.”

Steve huffs a laugh out of his nose and shakes his head. “A symbol of hope, you cynic. And I really don’t mind that either. It’s just…”

Tony presses his thumbs up Steve’s nape which makes Steve sit up a bit straighter and tilt his head forward to better Tony’s access.

“Just?”

“I don’t really feel like being a uniform today.” He pauses and for once Tony doesn’t try to fill the silence. “It’s been great being an Avenger,” Steve continues thoughtfully. “Fighting together, saving the world. And then you set us up here, which was really generous by the way, don’t know if I’ve said that before.” He breathes in deeply and it lifts his shoulders, which Tony glides down with his hands. Tony’s current silence is because he literally has no reply to that. “I had friends back then -- not long ago for me -- who knew me. And now you guys are starting to feel more like friends, and today I just felt like being around that, you know? Only no one was here so I got it in my head I was alone and was going to head down to the heavy bags. So, when I saw you in here, it just surprised me. Switched gears in a hurry, does that make sense?”

“Ah,” said Tony softly. He can understand it probably better than Steve would expect. Tony’s always had lots of friends, but precious few he’d spent any significant amount of time with. Tony had once thought being an Avenger would be limiting. Claustrophobic, even. But now he was beginning to count on the joking and ribbing and seeing their faces around Stark Tower. And Steve was… well, Tony could also understand why running into Tony alone might be jarring if they were at all on the same page about this. Hopefully not unpleasant, just jarring.

“You really should take me up on that offer,” he says, aiming for flirty but landing too gently by half.

Steve hums and tilts his head. “I already said why I don’t do that sort of thing.”

“Right,” Tony says, dipping gentle fingertips into the soft spot at the back of Steve’s jaw. “Strangers. Taking advantage. But if it wasn’t a stranger, and the offer was genuine, for — I’ll be honest here — at least partly selfish reasons…”

Steve’s shoulders shake with his chuckle at that. “Partly?”

“Genius billionaire playboy _and_ philanthropist, remember? I have a keen sense of patriotic duty to boot. So...?” He stills his hands.

Steve shakes his head, but it’s on a wry laugh. “What, uh. What exactly did you have in mind?”

“Oh, you know me,” says Tony, turning Steve around in the stool so they’re facing. He draws a thumb down Steve’s jaw and keeps his gaze on where he’s touching to lessen the intensity. “Plans are all well and good, but I prefer to think on my feet.”

“And here I thought your motto was ‘Act now, think later.’”

“Never let it be said I fail to live up to my reputation.”

Steve lacks his usual smirk and Tony thinks maybe he’s actually caught Steve out a bit with the whole sexual advances thing. He allows that this moment is maybe a tiny bit less playful than he anticipated and instead slides his hand around the back of Steve’s neck and leans in. “Come on, Captain. Let me show a citizen’s gratitude.”

“I’d…” Steve licks his lips and his eyes are fixed on Tony’s mouth but he doesn’t move in. “I’d prefer it if we didn’t call it that, actually.”

“Sure. Whatever you say, Captain.” But Steve looks up into Tony’s eyes and Tony amends, “Steve.”

He intends to take it slow and steady, but to impress a little as well, because Tony has no modesty about his skills in this department. He has a pace in mind and begins with a soft hug of lips and just the barest hint of tongue. Tony can work with delicacy and finesse when it’s needed, and Steve seems like he’d appreciate a slow, methodical build.

But then Steve grabs two handfuls of Tony’s shirt, yanks him in and deepens the kiss in a rush, and it reminds Tony of the time Steve was thrown from a plane. Tony had dived after him and once Tony had caught hold of Steve, the thrusters stuttered out on his suit. They’d toppled through the air, tumbling and hurling and clinging to each other. Tony feels a bit like that now, like his stomach has forgotten which way is up. All at once Tony is done teasing. He _wants_.

In a rush of breath the kiss is deep, each one of them in a frantic push and pull, lips and tongues greedy for each other. Somehow Steve stands and gets his arms around Tony’s waist, pulling him tight so Tony’s a bit off balance. But he won’t fall — can’t fall — not with Steve holding him up and _shit_ , Tony’s got to back this off a little, for his own sake or for Steve’s he doesn’t know and doesn’t bother to answer for himself.

He pushes Steve back just enough to be able to kiss down his jaw and nose into his neck, which is warm and Tony can see Steve’s quickened pulse. Here he can breathe and at least form a complete thought, which is to remember that he had a goal. With a bit of pressure, Steve leans back against the barstool. Tony rucks up Steve’s shirt, fingers skating over muscle and fuck, this is unreal, “pinnacle of human form” not just bullshit PR. And then Steve just peels the whole thing off and Tony actually closes his eyes for a second on a shudder of pleasure at his luck that Steve is allowing any of this.

Steve’s skin is warm and firm under his tongue as Tony presses kisses and licks to Steve’s collarbone, his pec, his nipple (and holy damn, Steve’s shiver should be bottled for later private consumption), and his stomach which flexes just a little as he hunches over Tony’s attention. Tony actually doesn’t spend much time on it, as much as he’d like to explore every topographic contour of Steve’s body. He promised a blowjob and that seems to be what Steve has agreed to so Tony isn’t going to push his luck and risk missing out on the main attraction. So he moves down, allowing him to focus on the physical anyway, which is what this is all about.

Steve’s jogging pants do nothing to disguise the outline of his erection, which Tony frames lightly with his hand and mouths over just for the pleasure of doing so. The breath sounds like it’s been punched out of Steve, and Tony’s not actually sure he can handle seeing Steve’s face right now. So while he’s sorely tempted to do a little fake biting and cheeky grinning, he’s actually worried he’ll make eye contact and reignite all the intensity from moments ago, so instead he eases the band of Steve’s pants down over his underwear and with fingers hooked in the elastic, slides around to the back to pull down a bit there. Tony’s no stranger to pheromones and he’s connected with a lot of people, but Steve smells _amazing_ and the longing in Tony’s gut is kind of sweetly exquisite agony.

Steve’s cock is just visible at the waistband of his briefs. It hits Tony then that this whole suggestion was somewhat of a tactical error because now he realizes he’s ravenous for that cock and he doesn’t think one blowjob is going to satisfy his hunger. So apparently now he’s in the position of pining after a dick he’s effectively set up as a one-off bit of fun-times. Perfect, Tony, work of a genius.

He runs a thumb up the clothed length, and it presses out a droplet of shiny moisture which Tony leans in and licks up before really thinking about it. He’s just in the process of pulling down the rest of the obstructive clothing when he feels a large hand come to rest on his cheek, fingers brushing lightly under his jaw. He won’t look up.

But his body doesn’t listen because despite his internal resolve, he’s looking up at Steve’s aqua blues and the little furrow between his brows, and all Tony can do is swallow hard and hope his poker face is as good as he thinks.

Steve bites his lip and strokes a thumb across Tony’s cheekbone, a little upwards nod of encouragement making Tony open up and mouth at Steve’s cockhead like a good boy, and damnit, so much for that poker face. But Tony can be honest with himself enough to realize that he wants it, possibly more than Steve, so he gives into the urge and turns his focus back downwards, with the added bonus of maybe hiding his face a little bit.

It’s a fabulous dick, truly measures up to the man it’s attached to: long, not absurdly thick, smooth and straight, and Tony wraps his tongue around the shaft and mouths his way to the head which he envelopes in a suckle. Steve, the bastard, keeps his hand where it is, and adds the other hand to the overall problem of Too Much Intimacy by threading gentle fingers through Tony’s hair. He doesn’t even thrust into Tony’s mouth, which is just Steve all over.

Tony takes his fill, sinking down, sucking, licking, tasting pre-come like it’s a 25 year old scotch, and occasionally lifting right off to watch as he jacks Steve off. He resolutely ignores the hands on his head and falls into the rhythm so thoroughly that he loses track of how long he does it. He only realizes that it might be longer than he thought when he notes the red flush and telltale rumble deep in Steve’s body. Suddenly eager for what awaits him, Tony pulls back just enough to carry on jacking and sucking on the head and despite Steve’s frantic tapping on Tony’s shoulder, Tony stays latched on as his tongue is lashed with a hard, hot stream of come.

Staying on past the shudders and licking Steve clean, Tony runs his hands up and down Steve’s thighs, thinking ahead to how he might play this off as a little sex between bros, no big. Because honestly, part of Tony’s brain is screaming at him to stand, kiss Steve stupid and drag him off to his penthouse bedroom where they can fuck like bunnies till next week. But Tony’s always got the impression that he’s a bit of a firehose pointed in Steve’s direction and while Steve can clearly take it, whether he _wants_ Tony’s particular brand of fixation aimed at him is another matter entirely. So strategy. Bros. No big.

He stands, crooked smile already in place and ready to ignore his erection for later furious jacking off because this is better nipped in the bud.

“No need to thank me, pleasure’s all mi—”

“Tony.” Steve grabs hold of Tony’s belt loops and pulls him in. “Shut up.” He kisses Tony again, heated and wet, and Tony “mmf”s into Steve’s mouth. And this is such a bad idea, what was Tony thinking? He should extract himself and go. But Steve’s hands slip around his waist coming to rest on Tony’s ass and Steve’s body is solid and fits perfectly against his own, so despite his better judgment, he softens to the kiss.

With a hungry lick and a final press of lips, arching forward like he doesn’t really want to stop, Steve pulls back. “Let me. I want to,” he says, failing to follow up with what precisely he has in mind.

Tony lets his eyebrows ask the question because this is the wrong moment for his lack of brain-to-mouth filter to act up. In response, Steve tilts his head towards the door.

“You don’t need the pretense,” he says, the asshole. “I wanted this. Can we take it to your room? And we can…” he pulls Tony close again, enough to press Tony’s erection into Steve’s hip.

“Can...” Tony prompts, smirking despite the the dangerous flutter in his chest.

“Well, I don’t know, Mr. Improv. Let’s get up there and see.”

Tony doesn’t bother replying, just nods and swallows hard, hoping like hell his stomach will find Up sometime soon.

***

 

**Author's Note:**

> As I try to clear the rust off my writing mechanisms, some incredible people helped with some grease and polish. Three (three! I know, I'm spoiled) people helped me with their mad beta skills: so thank you to kavsdick, TheImmoralCrow, and nightreveals for making me feel like I can do this whole writing thing again.


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